


Netflix and Chill

by SomewhereApart



Series: Inspired by OQ [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by OQ, Verse: Baker's Dozen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 01:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: Robin Locksley doesn't love having to share his wife for the holidays, but they make the most of the moments they have. Verse: Baker's Dozen.





	Netflix and Chill

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by OQ, Day 2. Inspired by a drawing by @ankareeda

He hadn’t quite realized when he’d fallen for Regina that it would mean sacrificing their holidays for other people’s happiness. But it happens every year, and with every holiday. The summer ones perhaps less so, but winter, and spring, and the high holidays, they’re always a wash. She spends the run-up to Thanksgiving and Christmas working extra hours to fill custom orders of pies and cakes and cookies. Easter and Passover see her working late to decorate egg-shaped sugar cookies, or make piles and piles of coconut macaroons. 

Other families get to be excited for the holidays, but theirs… they just end up exhausted. She always takes the holidays themselves off, but that’s little consolation when he’s propping their daughter on his hip while she oohs and ahhs at her first glimpse of the Macy’s Parade balloons while her mum sleeps off the week’s worth of extra hours she’s put in. Or when she misses their children opening their presents from Santa Claus and Robin has to hold them off the other delights beneath the tree until she manages to drag herself out of bed at half ten.

He covers for her, always, because she feels guilty for it, always, but it’s… less than ideal.

At least this holiday isn’t a family one. 

There are no children waiting for their mum to wake up or arrive home—in fact, when Regina finally trudges in the door on the evening of 14th February, Lydia is spark out in her new toddler bed, Henry quietly tucked away in his room working on his homework with strict instructions not to emerge (and also hasty assurances that should he have a need to, he won’t be traumatized, it’s not _that_ kind of date).

He’s made dinner for her, greets her with a glass of wine, and a pair of steaks, with veg and mashed potatoes and a dessert that is not of her own making. Ferrara cannoli, because they remind him of her, of the first time _she_ cooked for _him_ , and everything that came after.

There are heart-shaped mylar balloons tied to what seems like every available piece of furniture—backs of two unused chairs around the kitchen table, the door handle of the fridge, two of the cabinets, and in the living room four of them have had their strings tucked down behind the sofa cushions, two more tied to the entertainment center. 

“The kids wanted to help decorate,” he tells her, as she takes it all in, slack-jawed with tears shimmering at her lashes, her wine clutched in hand. 

“It’s perfect,” she tells him wetly. “Thank you.”

“I thought we might do dinner and a movie?” he suggests. “We can see what’s on Netflix.”

“I’d love that,” she tells him with far too much feeling for Netflix and chill, but he’ll take it. The hand not gripping her wine reaches out and wraps around his, fingers tightening as she meets his eyes with her own. “ _Thank you_ ,” she says again. “I’m sorry I cost us so many special days. I know it’s hard on you.”

Robin draws her in, winding his arm around her waist with a shake of his head. “It’s part of the package, and I wouldn’t have anyone else. You’re worth every missed holiday, lovely.”

Her gaze drops down, her voice lowering, too, as she murmurs, “Maybe, but I wish we could have just one Valentine’s Day you could take me out to some fancy restaurant, and… date me.”

“I can date you fine right here,” he assures her, that hand around her waist dropping to give her arse a squeeze as he adds, “Besides, those places all cost a mint; Netflix and chill with the wife is a cheap date.”

She laughs, all shadows of guilt tucking back into their hidden corners, cowering from the light of her smile. She whaps him in the chest, then turns and gives him a little bump with her hip as she disentangles and teases, “Let’s get to the cheap dinner, then; I’m starving.”

They eat, and they talk, and they flirt shamelessly. They even play footsie under the table, and feed each other those mini cannoli. It’s all going swimmingly—in fact, when they head to the couch, he’s a mite concerned he may traumatize Henry after all, what with the way Regina’s lips are teasing at his neck, her body stretched out atop his while they make out on the sofa like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

They don’t undress (he won’t risk _that_ level of embarrassment for the boy), but he teases his hand under the soft blue cotton of her top, beneath the snug denim of her jeans, and hers sneaks up beneath his jumper a time or two as well. 

After a while, she pulls back, asking, “Are the kids home?”

Robin nods and tells her, “Lydia’s asleep; Henry’s doing homework, and reading, and pretending I’ve never done more than hold his mum’s hand.”

She snorts at that, drops her head to his chest as her shoulders shake, and then she relaxes into his chest with a deep sigh and a muttered, “It’s too early for sex, then. Start a movie.”

Alas.

Robin reaches for the remote and brings the Netflix to life, scrolling through their movie options before they settle on an old rom com. She snuggles down more comfortably against his chest when the opening credits begin to play, and Robin presses a kiss to her crown and holds her close.

Twenty minutes later, she’s snoring softly, but he doesn’t dare disturb her by relocating. He’ll stay right here and hold his Valentine until the movie ends, tonight when there’s not a customer, nor a holiday, nor a last-minute special order that can tell him otherwise.


End file.
